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October 19, 2005

Forest for the trees

The weather outside is...delightful. First frost hasn't hit yet, so I'm enjoying fresh blooms on all the zinnias and cosmos that I didn't get around to sowing until late July (hmm, better not make that a habit), and the fat-faced fluorescent orange rose begonia that greets visitors at the front door is flowering as if it were July. It's nippy in the mornings, but warms to high 60's and low 70's under clear bright skies most days. Yes, I realize that we won't see the likes of this run of weather this time of year anytime again soon. And yes, this weather should have me doing grandes jetés across the yard, strewing petals about, but...I find myself examining the molars on this gift horse with deep suspicion. Eh, probably nothing more than the effects of the descending cone of seasonal affective disorientation as daylight wanes ever shorter.

But I am enjoying the trees without ambivalence. Foliage changes have been slow and gradual this fall. Some burning bushes are already dancing in full regalia at the ball, while others are still working on getting their cheeks rouged as they rush out the door. The trees seem to be holding onto their leaves longer, leading to extended juxtaposed foliage contrasts. The red maples are justly flaunting their jewels, and I'm especially enamored of the maples that turn the same yellow-orange-red as the spot on the just-right ripe peach which you mark for your first bite. But it's not just the flamers that draw notice. Under the soft-lit spotlight of the autumn sun, there's a presentational aspect to all the trees now, the evergreen next to deciduous khaki-green, the beech's russet next to the willow's still-green hula skirt, and, best of all, rich yellow next to nothing but blue skies.

Comments

Yesterday I noticed at the corner of the house the cosmos I planted as seeds in late July and forgot about. A nice little surprise! A funny warm October, but I'm not complainin' now that it stopped rainin'.